


Picnic on a Pier in Late Spring

by celestialcelest



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Picnics, Pre-Canon, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialcelest/pseuds/celestialcelest
Summary: “Wanna go for lunch?” he asked.The apprentice frowned at him. “For lunch.”“Yeah.”“Where?”He grinned a foolish, young grin and said, “It’s a surprise.”---It's heartbreaking to watch a once-great magician fall back to the status of an apprentice. But this newfound naivety makes it easier for Asra to suprise them with a picnic.





	Picnic on a Pier in Late Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Second update in two days?? Look at me go. 
> 
> This was the result another request from someone over on Instagram. "Very fluffy" transformed into "very angsty" but I hope the fluff is still adequate?? 
> 
> I had no idea what to title it so it's got,,, less pizzazz than usual oops. In any case I hope you enjoy!

Sometimes Asra cursed himself for what he’d done. To disturb the dead, to treat a life like it was his own when it wasn’t--there was no way around it: bringing the apprentice back to life had never been his decision to make. The betrayal he felt from the universe’s unfairness paled in comparison to the weight he’d put on his love’s shoulders. Escape was nothing compared to survival. Anesthesia was nothing compared to pain. Death and life--they weren’t even on the same playing field.

In a fairytale, the apprentice’s revival would’ve been celebrated. But as he’d learned several times before, life was no fairytale.

Still, despite the melancholy, there was novelty in the _newness_ of the apprentice’s memory. For one, Asra had never been able to surprise them before they died. Too sharp, too detail-oriented--no matter how hard he tried, they always knew what he was up to before he even knew he was going to do it. There was this quiet pier he’d always wanted to take them to. It was a beautiful place for a picnic.

He’d escaped from the shop early in the day, leaving the apprentice to take care of customers. The exasperated face they made was all too familiar.

He knew it was silly, but he walked quickly. Half of his mind made familiar shapes from the shadows, and the other half always became infested with worry when he left the apprentice alone at the shop. Especially now, when they were so _vulnerable_. Even though Lucio was gone. Even though the plague had disappeared. Even though the shop was busy and full of people who could keep the apprentice safe if push came to shove.

But Asra was determined. Even though he had to pause every few moments and remind himself that there was no reason to be afraid, he still arrived at the foot of the Dark Forest and spent the first half of the morning filling the empty jars in his satchel with berries.

On his way back, Asra stopped by the baker’s and bought a loaf of his famous pumpkin bread.

(He cut off a couple slices and ate them as he walked).

When he returned through the front door the apprentice called a greeting before returning to the last few customers before lunch break. The folks in line, most of them familiar, called greetings to him. He returned their hellos with a smile. When they followed him up the stairs and requested readings he said that they were welcome to return after lunch.

Then he continued into the upstairs room, shut the door behind him and strung two pewter mugs to the strap of his satchel. He barely sat down before the apprentice came up the stairs, wiping their hands on some rags.

“Wanna go for lunch?” he asked.

The apprentice frowned at him. “For lunch.”

“Yeah.”

“Where are we going for lunch?”

He grinned a foolish, young grin and said, “It’s a surprise.”

“Alright, then.”

They both left the shop. The air smelled like tulips and felt like laying in the Sun on a lazy morning.

On a whim, the apprentice took Asra’s hand. It was warm and familiar in a déjà vu kind of way. When they looked at Asra’s face, there was a faraway look in his eyes that made the apprentice let go and look away, ears burning with an emotion that they didn’t quite have a name for.

“Sorry,” they said.

That brought Asra out of his thoughts and he looked at the apprentice. And his heart ached. His heart ached because he remembered and they didn’t. And he wished they could remember. But what he wanted even more was to never put them through the pain of remembering again.

And _damn_ he was such a _fool_ for taking the apprentice’s hand but he did and he held on like to let go was to let go of life itself.

And he swore the apprentice did the same.  
  
When they made it to the pier, the apprentice froze. A large expanse of water swam before them, rich and deep and blue. They looked out at it, at the ships on the horizon, at the sheer size of the world. Asra froze and watched them, watched the ocean breeze move through their hair and how they were struck speechless.

“This is beautiful, Asra.”

“I’ve always wanted to share it with you.”

“Is this where we’re eating lunch?”

He smiled in defeat and pulled a blanket from his bag. “You got me.”

The apprentice’s face lit up. Together they set the blanket down over the pier. They both sat cross-legged, and Asra and pulled the loaf of pumpkin bread and the jars of berries from his bag. He cut a couple of thick slices of the bread.

“Which berries would you like?”

The apprentice scanned the row of jars, face lighting up when they saw the goldenberries. “Those ones.”

Asra poured some of them into a small tin bowl. Of course the goldenberries, he should’ve known. They’d been the apprentice’s favourite before… Well, _before_. And it overwhelmed him to know that they were their favourite again. In the beginning, he had doubts over _who_  exactly he’d brought to life, whether it really was the person he’d known before or just someone who wore their face. As the days went on it became clearer that this was indeed the magician he’d once known.

“Asra, are you okay?”

He’d been staring. He cursed himself for that, and later he cursed himself for the words that left his mouth.

“You’re wonderful. Just when I think you can’t amaze me anymore, you do.”

The apprentice frowned and Asra felt his face burn and he looked away.

“You’ve improved so much lately, I mean.”

The apprentice looked into Asra’s eyes and he swore he could feel them searching, searching, searching for _something_ and before the apprentice could find it he shut it away, sealed it in a tomb, stationed twelve armed guards around it.

At least, he thought they were searching. It had only been a split second.

“Thank you,” the apprentice said, and they took the container with the golden berries into their hands.

They spent an hour eating bread and berries, they spent an hour talking and laughing, and Asra spent an hour hoping, _hoping_ that somehow the apprentice could figure out for themself the emotions swirling around his heart.

(They used to be so good at that. Figuring him out before even he even did himself.)

And when it was time to return to the shop the apprentice held out their hand and helped him to his feet. They folded the blanket up and he put the empty jars away and then the apprentice left the ghost of a kiss on his cheek.

He froze and brought his hand up to his face.

And he could almost hear the words _you’re wonderful_ echoing in the air.

 

 


End file.
